


Marked, Bound Ever To Thee

by kakaitalover



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Dub-con Marking, Dub-con Sexiness, Dub-con/Non-con Mystic Bonding, Feral!Harry, M/M, Marking, NO RAPE I PROMISE, Possessive Behavior, Sex Pollen (Literally!), Underage Mystic Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-11 11:51:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3326369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakaitalover/pseuds/kakaitalover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mystic bonds just make <i>everything</i> awkward. Especially when they're triggered by rape flowers.</p><p>Or, soulbonds aren't all they're cracked up to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Johnny Marcone couldn't entirely suppress the vicious satisfaction when Harry Dresden was reported to have disappeared from Chicago. _Good_ , thought a savagely vindictive part of him, _let him flee in shame, let him hide away in guilt_.

It didn't help his temper any that he also couldn't squash the unhappy longing the news inspired, the remorse that it was partly his own angry rejection that had driven the wizard off, or the humiliatingly, infuriatingly persistent fear that perhaps he'd left because John simply wasn't good enough for him to stay.

***

“ _It's almost funny,” Thomas Raith tossed out quietly, with an angry twist to his lips that belied any amusement. “You've been trying to bind him to you for years, and now you've actually succeeded, but you're the one wearing the collar. It's almost as if one of the trickster gods decided to grant you a wish. If I weren't so worried how Harry's going to take it when he comes back to himself, I'd be laughing myself sick.”_

***

On a farm in Missouri, Ebeneezer frowned as he watched his erstwhile apprentice silently work himself to death. The young man hadn't said word one beyond asking if he could stay for a while, and had avoided meeting his teacher's eyes since he'd unexpectedly shown up at the door, looking broken and vulnerable in a way that put Ebeneezer uneasily in mind of the hurt, frightened boy he'd first brought there over a decade ago. Whatever had happened, it had clearly been bad, very bad, and Harry's inability to bring himself to speak of it only deepened Ebeneezer's misgivings. He'd give it a few more days, he decided. If Harry hadn't calmed down enough to tell him what was wrong by then, he'd start contacting the boy's Chicago allies. They'd have at least some clue what had happened – or if they didn't, he wasn't likely to find the information anywhere else short of Hell.

Better to exhaust other options first.

***

“ _So he's literally branded 'Property of Harry Dresden' across my forehead?”_

“ _Your whole aura, more like. It's not actually his fault, you know. These flowers, however they do it, roughly mimic the effects of the White Court – they're a little like a stronger, magical version of rohypnol-meets-Ecstasy, and they were_ designed _to target wizards. What's amazing is that he managed to fight it enough to ask first. Well, sort of.”_

***

The members of the Outfit unfortunate enough to come into contact with John over the next weeks left shaking, grateful to be mostly intact and determined to avoid future brushes if at all possible. Those whose positions didn't allow the reprieve of avoiding the boss broke down into nervous wrecks, sweating and fidgeting, jumping at shadows that might become John-Marcone-shaped. Even Hendricks felt the brunt of John's ill humor more than once, before he snapped back that ignoring a problem didn't fix it, and neither did terrorizing one's subordinates, so perhaps John should look into Raith's advice to interview other beings that were bound to Dresden. Gard might be looking into safe ways to remove the marks, but until and unless John was freed he was still going to have to cope with the position he was in now. And that, Hendricks pointed out mercilessly, required information on what to expect.

John yielded with poor grace.

***

_The kiss came out of nowhere. One moment Dresden was muttering about the heat and the cloying, almost physical scent of the flowers, the next he'd stumbled over nothing, prompting John to catch him. The wizard stared at John as if he'd never seen him before, then grabbed him, dropped them both to the ground, and kissed him like his life was riding on whether or not he could turn John's head in five minutes or less._

***

It was the last night Ebeneezer had allowed himself when Harry finally broke his silence over the dirty dishes.

“Sir,” he rasped, voice hoarse from disuse, “sir, I – ”

“Sit down, Hoss,” Ebeneezer snapped when Harry swayed, shoving him into the closest chair and leaving the dishes where they were for the moment. “You've been pushing yourself to exhaustion every night since you got here, and not sleeping on top of that if those rings under your eyes are any clue. Now, what the devil is it that's got you so worked up?”

Harry tried to curl into himself, face twisting like he wanted to cry. His fingers gripped the seat of the chair so hard it groaned in protest.

“I – sir, I – I think I might have broken one of the Laws.”

Ebeneezer's blood turned to ice-water in his veins. He dropped heavily into the other chair. “Tell me,” he croaked. “Tell me everything.”

***

“ _My point is, he's a victim in this too.”_

_John's control over his temper, already strained, abruptly snapped._

“ _My heart bleeds. It must be so difficult for him, to be forced into a position of power over someone he despises. Certainly that must be as unpleasant as suddenly becoming another person's_ property – _and not just any person, but one who actively dislikes and vilifies him. The poor dear. Perhaps a fruit basket would help to console him? I'll have to order one on my way back to the office. I'm afraid the time spent here has significantly eaten into my schedule and I have a great deal of work to catch up on. Good day, Mr Raith.”_

_John finished adjusting his clothing and turned to leave, white-hot fury propelling him toward the car despite the relentless urge to turn around; run back to the drugged, sleeping wizard; fall to his knees and bury his face in the crook of the man's neck; drag him somewhere safe and warm and never leave his arms. Shaking with mingled rage and longing and an absurd feeling of betrayal, he left vampire and wizard in the dust behind him without looking back._

***

“You go right ahead and call the Council. It won't get you anywhere. He hasn't broken any Laws,” Raith insisted, all icy hostility, any helpfulness or sympathy burned from him with Dresden's disappearance. Negotiations for a list of Dresden's bound subordinates had quickly deteriorated into argument and threats. John raised an eyebrow, determinedly showing no visible sign of the fury coursing through him.

“The last I'd heard, mind-magic was not – ” The vampire interrupted with a cold laugh.

“Is that what you thought happened? You started feeling things you didn't expect and thought he used _mind-magic_ on you? Clearly you weren't listening when I explained what each of those marks meant. _He claimed you_ – branded how he felt about you right into your core. His magic is wrapped around you like a ten foot neon sign, flashing 'mine, mine, mine!' brightly enough that no one with the slightest magical perception can help but notice. It's strong enough that even reasonably sensitive mundanes can pick up on it, for all that they don't know what they're sensing.” Raith paused to smirk maliciously. Perfect teeth gleamed in a shark-like smile.

“Those feelings you're so worried about? The guilt when you hurt him and the longing when he's gone and the warm fuzzies when he's nearby? They're all you. They're _your_ emotional reaction to what you're picking up, caught in the center of it as you are. Of _course_ you want to be near him and feel safe around him, with all that brushing up against your aura. Who doesn't like feeling cherished and protected? Who wouldn't feel bad about hurting someone they knew right down to their bones felt that way about them?”

For the first time since the words “he's claimed you” were spoken in a garden of magical date-rape flowers, John's rage faltered. Deprived of its bolstering effect he felt empty, drained of anything but a hard knot of weary hurt in his gut.

Perhaps Raith noticed this, because while his expression gained no warmth, the viciousness leached from it until he merely looked anxious, raggedly resentful, and nearly as tired as John felt.

“He's not the type to force someone's obedience. Case in point, if he didn't care quite deeply about your will he wouldn't have confined himself to cuddling and mild groping back in the flowers. There's plenty of older, better-trained wizards that wouldn't have been able to resist pushing you down and taking you right there, regardless of what you wanted. I've seen it. That he was able to control himself so well in that state … probably some of it was that he's had a lot of experience with mind-control, _and_ being drugged. But a lot of it was about you. Look, just … just talk to the Guard. Harry's probably got them watching out for you, it shouldn't be hard to get in contact if you can find something they want.”

“What makes you think he'd still bother at this point?”

Raith's smile flickered back on, rueful this time.

“If you could see that protective mark on your brow you wouldn't need to ask.”

***

“ _It's in three parts. Three marks where he kissed you – Possession over the neck, Romance on the mouth, and Protection at your forehead,” Raith explained, illustrating with gestures at his own body._

“ _The first means that you belong to him – that you answer to him and he takes care of you. The second says, surprise surprise, that he's sexually interested in you – and, in conjunction with the other two, that he's taken you as his consort. The third one lets everyone know that you're under his protection and they'll have to go through him and every ally he can call on in order to harm you.”_

***

Ebeneezer let out a shaky breath. Harry had been relieved to hear that taking a consort did not involve mind-magic. He'd been upset more by that idea than by the fear of execution, Ebeneezer thought, though the latter had been in no small way on his mind as well. His mentor's reassurances had relaxed him enough to relate further details – like what had triggered the claiming, as Harry was decades too young to have fallen into that state naturally. He'd have to warn the Council about these flowers, and see what could be done about eradicating them. They were a nasty piece of work, no mistake.

He wondered, carefully hiding his turmoil from Harry, whether he should be furious that his grandson had been drugged, and thus essentially coerced, into making one of a wizard's most important decisions half a century before he was ready for it, or grateful that the precocious boy would at least know the joys of having a consort before he got himself killed taking on something too powerful. Perhaps, he mused, choosing this particular companion would keep the young fool alive long enough to reach adulthood. A mortal with enough wits and power (and balls) to take a place on the Accords would be a formidable partner. It all depended on whether or not this Marcone guy could come to terms with his new status and the responsibilities that came with it.

He already owed the idiot an ass-kicking for his mismanagement, though he supposed some slack should be allowed as the mortal likely had no idea what being claimed meant. It wasn't like Harry would have been any help on that front, uneducated as he was in the matter. Doubtless they were both equally uncertain and off-balance. He really needed to sit Harry down and explain things first, and he'd pay a visit to meet the consort at some later date. He could always shoot the bastard then if he hadn't shaped up.

***

_The kiss was intense, and for a long moment John lost himself in it. Eventually Harry jerked away, panting, reluctant, obviously struggling to focus, but determined to speak. “John,” he slurred, “John, do you, do you still – ” his eyes glazed and he broke off, swaying in toward John's lips again before he caught himself. He shook his head sharply and scowled as he met John's eyes._

“ _John – b'fore. You were willin' to deal, fight, kidnap, an' kill to have me, you... John. D'you still wan' me?”_

***

The Guard, when he lured them from hiding, were unexpectedly charming, endearingly childlike in their mindset and enthusiasm. Many of them, especially the smaller ones, seemed genuinely delighted that “Lord Harry” had chosen a consort, and excitedly darted to and fro, bragging about past triumphs and crowing over their placement on John's new pixie guard detail.

The larger ones tended to gather around a dainty-looking fairy with hair like dandelion fluff and a truly impressive glower for someone barely a foot tall. General Toot-toot was plainly dissatisfied by his Lord's choice, and made his contempt known by keeping his distance, pointedly ignoring John after the necessary introductions. John disregarded the chilly behavior in favor of speaking with the more welcoming members of the Guard. All of them were full of praises for their beloved Za Lord, who was generous with his care and protection and, most importantly, pizza.

A delicate female half the size of John's pinkie squeaked her tale of a daring rescue from a teenaged practitioner with more romanticism than sense or compassion. A slightly taller male had been retrieved from the clutches of a hungry stray cat. Still another had received hours of assistance placing his silk-twig-and-beer-can home in just the right location for quick access to a nearby restaurant's kitchen without coming in range of cleaning attempts or raindrops. All three had leaped at the opportunity to join the Guard upon receiving the offer – from Toot-toot, not Harry. John wondered, during the tenth or twelfth rendition of such stories, if Harry realized how thoroughly he'd captured the loyalty of his diminutive army.

It was a dismissive throwaway comment, ill-conceived and sparked by a flash of truly ridiculous jealousy and the lingering knot of hurt and resentment discovered in the wake of John's awkward talk with Raith, that eventually triggered the tiny general's explosion.

“He is _not_ weak! He is the greatest wizard! He's faced down the Erlking and even the Queens and he's not even full-grown yet! He will be stronger and warmer and braver than any Lord yet seen, and Toot-toot would have been big enough for him when he was old enough to choose! But the stupid flowers made him choose early, and now he chose you, and Toot-toot will never be his consort, and you're not even good at it!”

“It doesn't take much skill to be a belonging,” John snapped back, before shutting his eyes and breathing deliberately through his nose. Hendricks was right about one thing, he admitted to himself. This whole situation had him badly off-balance, and far less controlled than he could afford to be.

“Foolish! Selfish! Consort is a position of great honor, great responsibility! You don't even know what you're doing! You dare rob Toot-toot of his chance and then _undermine_ your charge?”

John wrenched his eyes open, struggling to pay attention to what was being said instead of lashing out automatically. Briefly he wished Hendricks was here, helping John maintain his composure by proximity alone. Even more briefly his mind flashed to Harry and the calm focus his presence seemed to bestow now – but that was a pointless, counterproductive thought and he cut it off quickly. The rest of the Guard had fallen silent, listening with an air that was markedly less convivial than it had been.

“I don't understand,” he said finally, forcing himself to speak rationally. “In what way is Dresden _my_ charge? I was under the impression that these marks meant, if anything, I was his.”

“Dunce,” the fairy scoffed. “He takes care of you, protects you – _you_ guard his heart. You think consorts just sit around and look pretty?”

A collection of jeers and rude noises indicated the Guard's opinion of this view. Toot-toot's voice rose, shrill and irate.

“You try to keep him healthy, mind and body. You give him a place to relax his guard, somewhere he can meet his deepest needs safely. You keep him balanced. Keep him happy. Defend his honor. Remind him to be smart when he's acting foolish. Keep him safe when he's too hurt to take care of himself. You guard his weak points! You _don't_ exploit them, make up stupid, petty _lies_ that play on his worst fears and make him hurt and doubt and run!” The fairy vibrated in anger, rising to scold John at eye-level.

“Idiot! Traitor! The most important trust a wizard can give and you use it to hurt him!”

“Tell me about it then,” John challenged. “This is the first I've heard about responsibilities. I've never cared for betrayal. Tell me what duties come with this position, so that I may endeavor not to repeat my mistakes.”

He met the skeptical, evaluating look Toot-toot leveled at him with renewed purpose. Responsibility meant power. If he had a firm understanding to ground himself on, and some means to control his life, he could cope with whatever changes and overcome whatever obstacles he ran up against.

The dewdrop fairy opened his mouth to speak again. He was interrupted by the stun grenade that landed in the clearing.

***

“ _D'you want me?”_

“ _Of course,” John gasped, “but – ”_

But you're clearly under the influence of  **something** , and while I'm tempted regardless, I have a lurking suspicion that taking your binding oath while you're drugged would be a surer way to end up dead than being your enemy outright,  _he didn't manage to explain, because Harry took this as permission to pull him into another kiss – and if John had thought the first one was intense, the second was mind-blowing. His lips were still tingling as Harry shifted his focus to begin an assault on the most sensitive part of John's neck. That tingled too, when Harry finally came up for air, resting his forehead against John's in an intimate gesture that stole John's breath more thoroughly than any number of kisses. The gentle, chaste press of lips to his brow should have been anticlimactic, but John shivered in its wake, leaning into Harry's welcome embrace._

_It wasn't until then that he noticed the glowing shield that surrounded them, or the frantic bodyguard and horrified vampire suddenly present outside it._

“ _Mine,” Harry sighed contentedly into his hair._


	2. Chapter 2

John didn't quite manage to get an arm up in time to save his vision. The disorienting blast that accompanied the flash put him on the ground, dizzy and nauseous and only vaguely aware of Toot-toot struggling beneath him. The tranq dart that followed the blast confirmed his hunch. Professionals – and skilled ones, to have gotten the drop on him. They must have been thrilled, if suspicious, to see him in an isolated area without a single bodyguard in sight or calling distance – an unforgivably foolish oversight in retrospect, but Hendricks was needed at the office and he hadn't wanted an unfamiliar presence to hinder his chances of meeting the Guard face-to-face. Clearly they'd thought it too good an opportunity to pass up.

His ears were still ringing, his hearing only partially returned, when rough hands bound his sluggish arms in zipcord and hauled him bodily to his feet. Toot-toot's weight rose with him, and he carefully stayed bent over long enough for the fairy to secure his grip, shifting to a position under his suit jacket that offered slightly better concealment. John played up his distress, leaning heavily into his captors and moaning to cover the sounds of high-pitched but furtive gasps and whimpers, and the occasional curse. It occurred to him, as he listened to far too few soft cries of pain and confusion, that a nonlethal concussive weapon was probably much more dangerous for small, airborne beings than it was for larger, grounded humans. How many of the Guard had died in that blast?

“General,” he mumbled quietly between groans, blinking through tears, “how badly are you hurt? Can you get to Mr Hendricks or Ha-Dresden?”

“I stay with you, Consort. One of the others will find the red man, and you can call Lord Harry yourself, but he said 'stay with him and guard him,' so that is what I am going to do. You will _not_ go alone with your enemies while Toot-toot is on duty!”

John did not get a chance to question or argue further, as the thugs holding him chose that moment to begin moving. He carefully showed no reaction to the tiny cries that were cut off by crunching sounds as they walked. Later, he promised, he would repay these men for their brutality in kind, but for now he stumbled along with them, trying not to dislodge his small, tenacious guardian.

***

Harry stopped dead in the middle of oiling leather tack.

“Problem?” Ebeneezer queried from across the room.

“I – no. Just – no, nothing.” The gnarled old man set down the wickedly curved harvest blade he was polishing and eyed his former student.

“Hoss, you are no better at lying now than you were when you were sixteen and sneaking out to sleep in the stable with the horses.” Harry blushed.

A judicious application of lifted eyebrows broke his will, and he reluctantly admitted, “It was just one of those weird feelings, you know? The paranoia that crops up randomly for no discernible reason, magical or mundane? Like something bad is sneaking up on you, or just kicked in your door while you were out. I just can't shake the feeling that there's something _wrong_ I need to take care of back home.”

Ebeneezer lunged for his staff. “Where's it coming from? Can you follow that feeling?”

Harry scrambled for his own staff. “Sir?”

“Hoss, if the feeling ain't fading and can't be reasoned away there's probably a good reason for it. Add the directional tug and you've got yourself one brand new consort in trouble. Is he calling you on purpose yet?”

“How would I know if he was?”

“You'll know.”

***

_It took over an hour for the call Hendricks placed to bear fruit, and it triggered no little awkwardness. Dresden was startled by the gofer's abrupt entrance and reacted swiftly, shifting from mindlessly amorous to fully defensive in an instant. As soon as the young lady popped out from the bushes he rolled John forward, pinning him firmly and interposing his own body between John and the new arrival. His shield flared warningly and a loud, angry snarl sounded through the garden from beside John's ear._

_Struggling to convince his libido that, no matter the intentions behind them, forceful immobilization and feral growling next to his ear were_ not _turn-ons, John barely noticed that all motion in the garden had ceased until Raith broke the frozen tableau._

_Gently taking the grease-stained bag from the pale, shaken girl, he sent her off. He met Har-Dresden's eyes and waited for him to settle before he approached, crooning softly, movements slow and carefully non-threatening. “Easy, Harry. It's just me, just Thomas. You know me. Calm, shh, I'm no threat to you and yours.”_

_Possibly Dresden did recognize him, because he made it almost within touching distance of the shield before the wizard became restive again and he had to stop. “Marcone, if you know any relaxation techniques, this might be a good time to employ them. The calmer you are, the calmer he'll be.”_

_Raith started edging forward as he spoke, coming closer until he could press lightly against the glowing barrier – Dresden rumbled in displeasure._

“ _Easy there. Eeeeeeasy. He's all yours, Harry. I'm not trying to take him from you. You know I wouldn't do that to you, right? I just want a look. That's okay, isn't it? You can trust me. Just a look. I'm not even going to touch him, see? Juust looking. There we go, caaaalm. Just taking a look at your fine prize, there. Nothing to get upset about, yeah? Yeah, that's good._ Very _nice. Eeeasy does it.”_

_A little more gentle coaxing from Raith, and a bit from John, and Ha-_ Dresden _finally let the shield flicker out, though he grew tenser as Raith approached, flashing his teeth in a warning growl, ready to call it back up at a moment's notice. Raith carefully avoided touching John as he crawled nearer, instead placing the fast food bag as close as he could before Dresden lost his patience entirely and pushed him away with a twist of will and a gesture – he did it gently, so perhaps he wasn't completely gone. They could only hope._

***

John listened to two of his abductors talk quietly in the front seat. He couldn't make out words, but the thick Bostonian accent was unmistakable. Morelli. Again. The man had been a minor thorn in his side for years, tiresome and frankly contemptible in his business practices, but recently he was fast becoming a real problem.

He stifled a grunt as the van went over another bump, tossing him into the air and slamming him back into the unforgiving metal floor. He checked that Toot-toot had not been knocked loose from his hiding place among the drop cloths in the corner. The last thing either of them needed was for the little fairy to fall onto the uncovered steel flooring, or be spotted by tumbling in the open. He'd barely managed to slip away unnoticed while John was searched for weapons – a foot tall might be a bit on the small side for intimidation, but it became awkwardly large when the goal was to slip from a jacket to a hiding spot without being seen by four professional kidnappers who happened to be right on top of you. The process had required a carefully timed fall-turned-apparent-escape-attempt beside the tire of a convenient truck, and had earned him no little time unconscious as an expression of his captors' appreciation.

The van bounced again, and John managed to use the motion to push him closer to Toot-toot's corner without alerting the goons sitting in the back with them. One benefit of mortal abductors was their determined ignorance of the supernatural. For all that they'd walked across the bodies of fallen dewdrop fairies, they'd probably already dismissed them as unusually large bugs. As such, they had no reason to suspect that John had an ally in the van, thereby giving him and Toot-toot an advantage, however diminished by Toot-toot's injury. “How's your arm?” he murmured, barely audible even to his own ears.

The tiny general shrugged, cradling the broken limb. “It will heal. You did not wriggle over here to chat about my arm.”

“You said I could contact H-Dresden. How?”

“You are his consort. He'll know when you're in danger. Call him and he will come to your aid.”

“ _How_ do I call him, General?”

Toot-toot glared as if he were a disappointingly obtuse student. “Focus! Want him here. Wish for rescue. Desire his aid. He'll feel it as urgently as you do.”

“And just how is he supposed to find us?”

John's diminutive ally huffed impatiently. “What did you think that Mark of Possession was _for_?”

***

_He was in Hell. He wasn't sure how he'd died without noticing it, but it was the only explanation that fit all the facts._

_Harry sucked and licked burger grease from John's fingers, smiled guilelessly and proffered french fries in return. John swallowed dryly and opened his mouth._

***

Harry knelt in the grass beside the tiny, broken bodies of his Guard. The survivors trilled their story in high voices, over and over. Ebeneezer stood off to one side, respectful of his student's grief.

Eventually Harry spoke, voice rough with suppressed emotion. “Has anyone gone for Hendricks yet?”

“Elidee left to find the red man,” chimed a blue light of indeterminate gender, “and Teetu went for the vampire.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Not long, not long! You got here so fast!”

Harry turned back to his mentor. “He's still moving. We should probably wait for – ”

He cut off and nearly toppled over, face gone slack in sudden shock. Ebeneezer moved forward to catch him, but was brushed aside as Harry rose gasping, “We need to go, we need to go _right now_.”

 _There it is_ , Ebeneezer thought, gripping a shoulder to hold the lanky body in place. The first summons always felt life-or-death urgent, he remembered, but right now was not the time to go haring off without allies, an idea of who they'd be fighting, or even a fixed location to travel to. “Slow down there, Hoss. We don't even know where we're going yet, none of your pals are here – ”

“No time. Sir, we have to go, they've stopped and they're _hurting_ him.”

And there went any chance of talking the boy into waiting.

***

_For a long, muzzily indeterminate time John didn't understand why Hendricks was upset. He was perfectly safe, after all – better than safe, he had Harry at long last, and it was_ so good _. He felt peaceful, relaxed, and warm right down to his soul; loved and truly happy for the first time in far too many years. Hendricks had never been homophobic, had never even given John the hairy eyeball over his sexuality, so what could be bothering him? Unless it was the vampire. The vampire was very bothersome, as a rule. John would be bothered by the vampire right now if everything in the world weren't perfect, but as things stood he was content with the smug knowledge that he had won in the end. No question why the soulsucker was unhappy – Harry was a prize anyone could see the worth of. Except maybe Harry._

_He involuntarily moaned into the next kiss, arched into the hands that crept under his jacket – no, his undershirt, where had his jacket gone and when had his shirt been undone? – and whined a little as they bared his chest and tortured increasingly sensitive nipples. He wove his fingers into overlong hair, pulled away to smile into warm chocolate eyes._

_They were empty._

***

One of the thugs in the bed of the van had sharper ears than John accounted for. Catching part of John's whispered argument with Toot-toot, he assumed that John was talking into a radio that he and his compatriots had somehow missed. A sharp command had the vehicle pulling off the road and squealing to a stop, and John was yanked out and dumped harshly in the dirt. _Sand dunes_ , he noted, _Indiana?_ before a boot sank into his gut with enough force to paint stars across his vision, which made it exponentially harder to maintain his focus on attempting to somehow, mystically “call” Harry  Dresden.

“Where is it?” a voice growled as hands tore his clothing open, exploring his body for a wire or a cell phone or some other transmitting device.

“ _Where?”_ This time the barked question was accompanied by a blow to his side. John felt something crack, and then his focus shattered entirely as a shrill, clear voice rang out.

“ _For the Za Lord!”_

“The hell is that!”

“Kill it!”

“Shit, it's got a blade!”

“Is that a box-cutter?”

“Somebody get the darts from the van!”

“Where the fuck's the stun gun?”

“Is that a _fairy?_ ”

“Fucking kill it!”

John rolled and kicked one of the kidnappers in the knee, evoking a satisfying _crunch_ and a scream. Down went the man who'd pulled a Tazer, though he unfortunately had enough presence of mind to use it on John as he landed.

An extremely unpleasant minute or two followed that, but John managed to lash out again and hit the man's head this time, before moving to get a strangle-hold with his legs. As his vision cleared and the man's struggles slowed, he spared a moment to feel grateful that he no longer had anything remotely metallic on his person, then took stock of his ally and their enemies. Toot-toot's opponents were clearly injured, bleeding from dozens of cuts all over their bodies, but they had just as clearly gained the upper hand, disarming the little fairy and knocking him to the ground. One of them pinned him in place with a familiar boot while a second leaned down to stare in wonder. The third retrieved the dewdrop fairy's fallen box-cutter and started forward with a vindictive gleam in his eye. The first put a hand out and warned him, “Just damage its wings, man, you have any idea how much we could sell this thing for?”

Toot-toot thrashed and cursed them all viciously, but couldn't break free.

John was the only one who saw the hole in the world tear open in front of the van.

“FORZARE!”

***

“Hold your horses, dammit, I can't do a blamed thing until he comes out of the Nevernever! Just keep heading southeast until I can get a bead on him.”

***

_Harry smiled at him sweetly, and for once it wasn't a herald to vicious words. It was soft and loving and beautiful in every respect, except for the glassy-eyed gaze above it. John's stomach turned, even as he felt the tug to continue, to lean back and let Harry – no, it was still Dresden, wasn't it? John hadn't won a damn thing – take this as far as he wished._

_It was surprisingly difficult to breathe._

“ _What's wrong with us?”_

***

Harry roared through the gate with fairies flying formations around him. Fire and bodies flew, the van exploded, and within five minutes four would-be kidnappers were tied up unconscious or cowering beside the smoking remains of the vehicle, guarded by dozens of angry pint-sized beings.

“You realize that after all the magic you tossed around none of them will have functioning cell phones for us to use. And we now have no means of transportation because you _blew the van up_.”

Harry just smiled, that big, goofy grin that took up his whole face and softened his eyes and made John's stomach do flip-flops. That grin had never been directed at him before. “Missed you too, John.”

John licked moisture into suddenly dry, gritty lips and sternly commanded his stomach to behave. It ignored him.

“You hurt very bad? I can get you pretty close to a hospital now if you need it, but we should probably wait for the cavalry if at all possible. They're already going to be pissed about being left behind, and it really would be better not to go tramping back through Summer if we can avoid it. Titania kind of dislikes me for some reason and Fix and Lily can only hide so much sneaking around.”

John deliberately colored his tone with faint disbelief. “You actually thought to arrange for backup?”

That earned him a pulled face, complete with out-thrust tongue, and he had to repress the random impulse to grin and tease, _don't stick it out unless you intend to use it_. He didn't quite manage to hide the twitch of his lips, if the triumphant smirk that followed was any indication, so he quickly rattled off a list of injuries as a distraction. “Minor cuts and abrasions, especially where the cords were; a wrenched shoulder that should be fine with a heat pack or two; at least one cracked rib; abdominal bruising – it doesn't feel like I have internal bleeding, but I should get that checked by a doctor as well. And if you know a healer or doctor capable of treating dewdrop fairies, General Toot-toot has a broken arm at least, and probably other injuries.”

Harry's face grew grim as the list rolled on. “Crap. Butters can probably take care of Toot when we get back, but unless Thomas or Cujo thought to invite a paramedic along it sounds like I need to get you to an emergency room.”

“Knowing you were the entire rescue mission? I don't doubt Mr Hendricks is bringing several. I'll be fine until they arrive. How are they going to find us, by the way? Did you happen to leave them a map, or directions? Coordinates, perhaps?”

“Better,” Harry preened. “I left them my teacher, armed with some of my hair and the remains of your phone. C'mere, let me see that shoulder.”

He didn't give John a chance to protest, slipping a hand under the remnants of his shirt and murmuring something in his butchered Latin. Warmth flowed into the strained muscle, loosening it and smoothing away the pain. John's breathing hitched, and he made himself step away. He fingered the duster Harry – Dresden, dammit – had wordlessly draped over his shoulders upon seeing the state of his clothing, now largely reduced to unwearable rags. It looked ridiculous on him, of course, falling over his hands, dragging at his feet, making him feel like a child playing dress-up in his older brother's clothes … but Harry had turned crimson and failed utterly to hide the supposedly furtive glances he'd been sneaking whenever he thought John wasn't looking. And John imagined he could almost feel Harry's magic pulsing in it as he traced his fingers over tattooed protections. He couldn't help but feel it more than a fair trade for the thousand-dollar suit it replaced.

And he couldn't be sure he would have felt that way a month ago.

Harry's eyes saddened as he moved away from the touch. “It's not mind-magic, you know. I mean, there _is_ a part that would allow me to punish you – which,  ugh, _no_ – but there's nothing that would let me compel your actions, or your feelings. I wouldn't even if there was; wouldn't even want to. I could never...”

“I know.” John sat in the sand, watching the Guard fawn over Toot-toot's injuries and shameless boasting, whenever they weren't harassing the subdued kidnappers. After a moment Harry joined him.

“I know you wouldn't. And I don't think you'll use the marks to coerce obedience from me, or to take over my life. Not on purpose, at any rate. But you could – without ever intending malice – and I should be far more alarmed than I am by that possibility.”

He laced his fingers together over a knee so he wouldn't scrub at his face. “I can't be sure how much my trust that you won't is a result of the marks and how much is just knowing you. All my reactions are off now when it comes to you. All my reactions are off, period. I cannot afford to make decisions based on feelings that are suspect!”

“Um. They're not actually different, you know. The effects of the marks and knowing me, I mean. The new feelings, they're still based on knowledge of me. You just have a little extra insight, now.”

“You hate me. Distaste overlaid by a general sense of obligation would not account for the sensations I've been experiencing. The marks are faulty, or my unconscious interpretation of what they're conveying is. Either way, my judgment can't be trusted.”

Harry released a sigh and lifted a hand as if to stroke John's hair, before letting it fall behind them. John ruthlessly strangled his disappointment. “I don't hate you. I haven't hated you for years, not since, you know, that thing with the Shroud. I'd never seen you like that before. It made you … human. And I couldn't hate that – no matter how much easier it would have made things. Not that I didn't try. Believe me, I tried.

“You aren't the only one having a hard time with this stuff, you know. You didn't wonder why I stayed away even after Ebeneezer explained things? I had to come to terms with things too. The things you do … I've put _so much freaking effort_ into disliking you, because I couldn't bear to like a guy who can do things like that, without hesitation or remorse. How could I fall in love with someone like that? Only … only you're mine now. I get to take care of you, and – I'd kill and die for you. I'd do it even if I really _did_ loathe you, and not just your position. But it's a lot harder to despise you now that I don't have to be afraid you'll stick a collar on me as soon as my guard slips. Even knowing what you do.”

John worked his jaw soundlessly before he managed, “My goodness, Harry, you certainly know how to turn a man's head. I may never recover from the blushing your sweet talk has induced.”

It didn't have the dry, unaffected tone he was aiming for, and it undoubtedly would have passed for sarcasm a little better if heat had not, in fact, been creeping up his cheeks, but it startled a snicker out of the gangly wizard. That snicker turned into a chuckle which became a howl that expanded into an irresistibly infectious belly-laugh. He and Harry sprawled in the sand laughing until they cried, hiccuping and giggling like a couple of prepubescent girls.

The laughter slowly faded, leaving a sense of quiet well-being in its wake. Harry traced a hand along John's jaw. “I'm going to kiss you now,” he announced seriously. “You can say no.”

John swallowed, but said nothing. After a moment's hesitation, Harry closed the remaining inches between them and pressed his lips to John's in a sweet, slightly dusty kiss. It was nothing like the passionate kisses in the garden, hard and greedy and mind-numbingly wonderful. This was slow, careful, a lingering, sensual exploration without purpose or urgency. John grunted encouragement when Harry nibbled on his lip, sighed into the kiss and shifted closer when long fingers skimmed lightly over his uninjured side, hummed appreciatively when they gravitated south for a comfortable hold. Harry moaned when John's hand slipped up to his nape and kneaded gently, then shivered when the other happened to brush second base.

They might have continued like that until the cavalry pulled up if the Guard hadn't noticed what they were doing and broken into cheers.

***

“ _Sleeping pills will not do a blessed thing, Mr Raith, in burgers or out of them, unless he actually eats them. As he doesn't seem to have even noticed the presence of food, I suspect we need a new approach.”_

“ _Well considering we barely managed to get him to drop the shield long enough for me to pass you the damn Burger King, and that made him so jumpy he started_ growling _, I'd love to hear your suggestion.”_

“ _He's feral, right? Running on mating drive and animal instinct? Try feeding him yourself, Boss. I bet he'd eat from your hand without a fuss.”_

“ _My hands are currently_ occupied _, Mr Hendricks.”_

_John's friend shrugged, the motion bringing to mind a restless mountain. “Sacrifices, Boss.”_

_John bit back the growl rising in his own throat. He should never have tried to describe what he'd seen in H-Dresden's soul. Hendricks had been hinting and nudging and teasing him about having a crush ever since, and the needling had only worsened after the battle in the Raith Deeps. “All he has to do is bat those big brown eyes and say please and you're_ there _, huh Johnny?” in particular had rankled._

_He'd show Hendricks sacrifices. Set the bodyguard on a few months of stakeouts with Gard, and they'd see how blasé he was then. Traitor._

_John released his hold to lunge for the drug-laced burgers, allowing Harry – Dresden – to swoop in like a six-foot-nine, somewhat perverted cuddling machine. Firmly ensconced in a bony lap, he ignored wide lips pressed to his nape and fluttering in his guts, slapped an overly adventurous hand away from his waistband, and twisted to fix Dresden with a gimlet eye. “Open wide.”_

***

It was immediately obvious that relations had changed for the better between Harry and his consort. Ebeneezer had never seen his grandson so open and relaxed in all the years he'd known the boy, and from the quickly-hidden shock that crossed the red-haired mountain's face, that hint of a smile and the faint warmth lighting green eyes were a rare sight as well.

It was almost physically painful to break that easy camaraderie, but Harry needed to decide on a course of action, and Ebeneezer couldn't delay bringing it up for much longer once bandaging and explanations were completed.

“What are you going to do with them, Hoss?”

Harry's criminal stiffened at the question, affront briefly visible in the line of his shoulders and the set of his jaw and then gone, though he eyed Harry intently waiting for his reaction. Harry himself was slower on the uptake. “Who, the Guard? Butters is looking them over. He says – ”

“Not the Guard, Hoss. The jokers by the car. They kidnapped and hurt your consort. People are going to be watching your reaction. How you deal with them is gonna have an impact on whether or not he gets targeted again.”

Harry paled. “But ... they're vanilla mortals. They didn't know he had ties to me – Hell's bells, they've probably never even heard of me.”

“Doesn't matter, Hoss. He's your charge. How you react to one assault against him – from any source – is gonna be considered indicative of how you'll react to all of them. And you've made enemies who won't hesitate to use him to get to you. You want one of them to come after him because you don't seem invested in his safety – or just hire mortals specifically because they know you won't do anything about that?”

“John can hold his own against any vanilla mortal enemies,” Harry argued, against recent evidence, but worry etched his face and Ebeneezer could tell his heart wasn't in it. So could John, by the slight narrowing of eyes and thinning of lips. The man's expression remained stubbornly unperturbed, but a faint aura of deadly ice seemed to be building under it, and Ebeneezer knew Harry's next words would make or break their relationship, though he didn't know why the matter of punishment was so important to the man. Maybe he thought Harry's reluctance to torture and kill the poor bastards meant the boy didn't value him?

Harry mulled it over silently, then turned to his consort.

“What do you want to do with them, John?”

“Hoss?”

Surprise thawed the gathering chill. “Harry?”

“You're the one they abducted. You're the one with cause for retaliation. And the guy who sent them is from your side of the tracks, so you'll have a better idea what's appropriate or necessary than I would anyway – it's not like I know anything about Mob politics.”

“Hoss, you can't just – ”

“Yes I can, sir. I officially yield any claim I have on them to John. He can seek retribution as he sees fit.”

Green eyes widened.

Ebeneezer opened his mouth to argue, then closed it as the implications of his ex-apprentice's decision unfolded. He smiled.

“Clever, Hoss. Very clever,” he murmured to himself, as Harry's other half dragged him off for a furiously whispered discussion.

“No, I meant it.” Harry's voice did tend to carry if he wasn't careful.

More whispering.

“I said 'as you see fit', didn't I? No claim, remember? Assuming I had any to begin with; this didn't have anything to do with me except that you called me for help.”

Murmuring now, soft and challenging.

“You won't.”

Insistent murmuring this time, punctuated with abortive gestures. Apparently the quiet assurance behind the statement was quite aggravating.

“Yeah, I know. Stars and stones, of course I'd rather you didn't kill them, John, but it's not like you'd tell me how to ward a building – you don't know how magic works. I don't know how the Mob works. I don't _want_ to know, either, thanks very much. What you do will reflect on me. I'll be held responsible for your actions. But if you can trust me not to use these,” he tapped John's neck, “to take over your life, then I guess I can have a little faith in you too.” A self-deprecating smile punctuated this declaration.

“So if you tell me something is really, truly necessary, I might question you, but I'll believe you, okay? And I'll back you up.”

The mob boss gaped. Discreetly.

Ebeneezer watched his pupil unknowingly strap his consort firmly into harness. The boy was _good_ , he thought, even if half the time he didn't seem to realize what he was doing. He'd hit upon a novel policy that would firmly deter attacks _and_ set the tone of their relationship by blatantly announcing them equal partners, which seemed to please his consort - and that kind of made sense, in retrospect, mortal or no; he'd never have _tried_ for the Accords if he hadn't counted power more important than safety - and would further protect him by establishing that Harry considered him anything but a weak link. It made Harry an attractive prospect as a liege, too. A lot of beings who'd ordinarily dismiss him as an option because of his age and inexperience would be interested in the freedom and trust he seemed inclined to offer. He'd have to beat off would-be subjects with a stick once this became common knowledge.

These two were going to be something else. But the last thing Ebeneezer needed was to see post-fight tension relief, he decided when Harry laughed helplessly at his mafioso's baffled expression and leaned down for a long, deep kiss.

He made tracks for the group on the _other_ side of the dune.

**Author's Note:**

> WOOOOOOOT, no more taxes! At least, not for another month. At this point, I'll take it. Now I have time to have a life again! *happily abandons real life to nosedive right back into fandom*


End file.
